


Years After

by Shrimptastic



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: But I know what's up, F/M, Fluff, Humanstuck, I promise that much, honestly, it's getting strange
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:22:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1996590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shrimptastic/pseuds/Shrimptastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I watched her go blind, and now I think I love her.<br/>Goddammit, Karkat. What the hell is wrong with you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waiting

I looked down at her hand, fingers intertwined with my own. I looked over at her, my face bright red. (Does she know what she's doing?) We had known each other for years. Hell, I knew her when she lost her sight. I was _there_. She had a surgery, and the idiotic surgeons messed up while fixing a benign tumor on the front of her brain. A stupid, unsteady slip, and she never saw me again. 

The worst part is: She has to be awake. She has to be awake for the surgery, and she had to see me last, for fuck's sake. She never had a mother, or father. Hell, I met her when she crawled under my window, using the small overhang as cover from the storm raging outside. She was only seven. I opened my window, letting a cowering, chilled-to-the-bone girl into my room. She snuggled against me for warmth; for safety; for comfort.

As soon as I opened up that window, as a small, stuttering kid myself, I opened up my life. My dad, being the selfish ass he was, kicked her out in the morning. But, she came back. It might have been me, or the fact that I had a warm bed, she came back. Over and over, again and again. I liked it, to be honest.

And then, nine years later, she reached over and grabbed my hand. Her clammy palm. Against my even clammier hand. I looked over, and she was looking ahead with a stare that still breaks my heart. I'd never tell her, though. I don't want her knowing that I feel weak sometimes. Leaders shouldn't feel weak. She smiled slowly, the longer her hand touched mine. I thanked whatever gods may exist that she didn't see how my face lit up like a Christmas tree at contact.

Now, you see, hand-holding between others is nothing compared to Her's, for the simple reason that she doesn't touch anyone, except for guidance. It was unexpected. I'd venture to call it terrifying, even. It was unnerving, as well. This independent, bold girl needed comfort for the first time in years.

And I liked it. I missed her. The seven-year-old her. The one who needed comfort. It was nice. I squeezed her hand lightly, and her face turned a little red. We sat there for a little while, watching cars go flying by, as we waited for the bus. I wish I could have sat there in that serene moment with Tez forever. Honestly, I think my feelings for her became more romantic than I previously thought. I think I might actually be in love with her.

...Don't tell her I said that. Even I gagged from that.


	2. Bus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Such piercing eyes. I don't know how she does it.

That serene moment did end, however. She broke our contact with a coy smile as the bus noisily rolled up. She stood first, which freaked me the fuck out. Then again, it always does. I know, I know, I need to believe that she can actually do things on her own, but I still feel somewhat guilty, even though I did nothing to make her like this.

As she stood, I quickly leapt up and silently guided her into the bus by her arm. She ignored my help and got on ahead of me, using her cane to feel her way down the empty aisle of the bus. I knew she could fucking tell that it was empty from the moment she walked in, but she just went on her way, ignoring the obvious like she always did. I never really minded, of course. She always seemed to check every seat, acting like she was considering it, but I knew she would end up at the back. This time was no exception as she sat carefully down, placing the cane beside her.

As I sat across the aisle from her, I noticed that the driver wore an exhausted expression as she faced forward, her red glasses shining into the driver’s eyes. I held up one finger to the driver as I slightly stood up and reached across the aisle and took off Tez’s glasses. She turned her face towards me, causing her vacant eyes to look right through me. Even as she was blind, I felt like she could still look into me and tell me who I was without me ever telling her myself. It’s like she had that power over me. I stood longer than I wanted and quickly sat down, praying that Tez didn’t know how long I stared at her eyes. I toyed with the glasses in my hands as I looked up at the bus driver as he rolled his eyes. At that moment, I noticed how hot my face had become. I showed him my favorite finger yet again as we began to move.

I stared out my own window, watching these stupid streets pass by that I used to walk around aimlessly. That’s a repeating pattern in my life, actually. Aimlessness, I mean. It’s ironic, as much as I fucking hate that word. I mean, I wander around like this fucking blind person, yet the only person I talk with regularly is blind, but walks around with more purpose than anyone I know. As much as it breaks me to see her blind, maybe I should try being blind. Just one day. Follow her lead, as dangerous as that might be, in a literal sense. I continued to think about what the world is like through her “eyes” as I felt the chair compress from extra weight. I looked to my left and saw the same set of eyes looking through me. She just smiled vaguely in my direction and looked forward as the bus slowed. Of course, though. Of course the bus would stop as soon as I begin to hope for some development.

Today’s going to be a long day.


	3. Walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The walk doesn't feel long anymore.

We stepped out.

The sun seemed to have grown in intensity as she stepped onto the pavement after me. I looked back as the sun glinted off her glasses, temporarily blinding me. The sick sense of me realized that I got my wish a few seconds ago. She reached out for me, making a grabbing motion. I raised my arm, letting her grip it. I tugged lightly, pulling her away from the departing bus. The tailpipe blew a large plume of black smoke at us as it sped down the lonely road. She coughed. I covered her mouth quickly with my sleeve. She placed her hand on mine and coughed freely into it. At around the fifth cough, I knew she was faking. I pulled away, and she started laughing gently. Goddammit, that laugh sounded like chimes blowing in the fucking wind on a summer afternoon.

After being transfixed on the laughter that a god himself handmade with instruments too sweet for us mortals to have, I looked down at my sleeve and noticed she licked it excessively, causing the sleeve’s black color to darken further. She pushed me, motioning for me to lead her. I pulled her arm gently towards the house. As we walked, I let my thoughts drift back further. Back to when I first met her.

I asked her what happened; why she ran away from her family. Her response was that she had no family. The family fucking left her. So, obviously, I was a bit infuriated. You should know that about me. So, that’s probably why I fucking became protective over her. Because I was all she had, and I already had seven years of a disadvantage to show her what a family should be, even if my example for a sustainable family isn’t that great. Probably why I watch so many movies about romance and the like. I didn’t see any of the cuddly shit when I was growing up, and I still had the responsibility of showing someone how a family should operate. Because that’s what leaders do, right?

...Right.

She bumped into me as we stopped outside of the old house. The outside was crooked and slanted. The paint completely gone, this house looked like those shitty places that haunted houses were modeled after. Granted, on my dad’s social security check for his, ahem, “unemployment”, this is all he could afford, even way back when I first met Tez. I led her up the stairs and opened the door.

Dad’s gone.


	4. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm home.

We walked through the front door, pushing it wide open. I shuddered from the cold breeze and tightened my jacket around me with one hand, the other guiding her in. Damn my dad for never heating this house. I have to use the excuse of cooking to warm up the house, and even that’s using just the oven. She let go of me and felt around for the ratty old sofa we scavenged from a yard sale years back. She climbed over broken arm of the sofa and laid down, face-first. I shook my head and wandered into the kitchen. As I opened the cabinet, I scanned the limited selection of canned goods that could service as some sort of respectable meal. Grabbing an unlabeled can, I scrounged through a drawer noisily for a can opener.

My mind began to wander to earlier in the day, back to the bus stop. I can’t stop thinking about it. She grabbed _my_ hand. I can’t make up my mind whether or not it meant something. Not way back then, and not now.

As I was searching through the same drawer for the fifth time, an arm wrapped around me and pulled me away from the kitchen. I shouted with surprise, obviously, but she still pulled me away from it. She felt her way back to the couch, throwing me over the back. I landed upside-down, staring straight towards the wall. She leaped over the back of the couch and landed roughly beside me, laughing again. I sat still, staring at the wall with a new perspective. After a few moments of no movement, she grew a worried look and reached over, feeling for me. The hand touched my chest lightly and recoiled quickly, her face blooming with red. I uncharacteristically and calmly reached up and grabbed her hand, placing it back on top of my chest. She pulled away lightly at first, but went with my guidance and kept her hand still under mine. Blood began rushing to my head from a source other than gravity as she shifted her hand lightly and gripped my hand. Her hand felt warm against mine. I could tell she was more nervous than at the bus stop. Can’t say I’d blame her, but I squeezed her hand to try and tell her there was no reason to be nervous, even though I was more anxious than her by a long shot.

She giggled, leaning against my legs, making an over-exaggerated kissing-face.

...Yep.

That was an intentional sex-joke, wasn't it?


	5. Admittance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They can shove it up their ass.

We sat there for a few minutes. I looked at her, and she reached up and felt my face. She did that as soon as she went blind. When she couldn’t see me, once she came out of surgery, she asked me (In the scariest, yet calmest tone) to touch my face with her hand. She did that daily, for three months, to just about everyone.

I missed it a little. Her hands still smelt like vanilla for some reason. (Seriously, I still don’t get it at all.)

Yet, this stupid fate-driven day continued to fuck me over. Her phone roared to life and began vibrating violently in her pocket. She let go of my hand and reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. She flipped it open and felt the button’s braille to hit the answer button.

I got up and went back into the kitchen, to attempt to grant her as much privacy as the house could allow. I focused on finding that stupid can opener to open that stupid can. Just keeping my hands busy would probably be enough to ignore any issues that attempted to barge into my mind. My mind wouldn’t quite shut up about what has happened. A thousand thoughts constantly battled for superiority, but I was interrupted from all of my personal chaos.

I heard a deep voice come from her phone, echoing across the silent house. I recognized the tone. I ran into the other room and grabbed her phone. Looking at her, I noticed her unseeing eyes wide open, tears forming, staring at the old tube television.

Those three, insincere words that she has heard all of her life rung out of the speaker.

“I’m sorry, but...”

I dropped the phone. We didn’t need to hear any more of the call.

 


	6. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silence is the voice of paranoia, but what if the paranoia got loud?

My brain and my heart were rushing to a destination within my own psyche that I was unaware of as my hand grasped hers. This might have been the third time, but just because it has happened before doesn’t mean the repeat was good news. She didn’t notice my hand on hers, clammy as it was. I leaned down to look into her eyes, to sense any emotion at all, but her eyes were as blank as her sight. I looked down at the phone and saw that the doctors had already hung up, but instead called again, thinking that a connection issue had happened. Neither of us moved towards the phone. My mind raced. I couldn’t sit still. My foot was constantly tapping. She noticed. I could tell, because she moved her hand from underneath mine and put it on my leg and pushed lightly down. I looked away, hoping that something would come through my house’s door and provide a method of fixing this. This. This needed to be fixed. She needed to be fixed, not patched.

Something wet hit my hand, which rested between our legs. I didn’t look. I closed my eyes tightly and began praying to whoever and whatever was out there.

The phone stopped buzzing, then consequently buzzed twice more to signify the voicemail. I leaned down and grabbed it. She hadn’t moved until I sat up. She grabbed the arm that was holding the phone, putting pressure on it to stop the shaking that I had subconsciously started.

I flipped open the phone, and then hesitated. The voicemail icon was blinking for attention, but I couldn’t click it. You know that I couldn’t. It was almost as if I was about to send her to her grave. Maybe if I didn’t start the voicemail, we could stay in that moment, frozen in time, wherein everything wasn’t perfect, but it paradoxically was.

My vision blurred as water splashed onto the screen as my arm shook more.

I realized that it wasn’t her that was crying.

 


	7. Clockwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tick.

An hour passed.

You walked out of my house in silence.

A week in silence.

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Huh? Yeah, it's nothing. Can you come back later? 

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Alright. Thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these are getting farther apart, but no one really reads them religiously anyhow.  
> Yes, this is short. Yes, I know what I wrote. Yes, it has a reason.  
> (Whoever actually reads this, thank you so much. It means a lot.)


	8. Weak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's going to die, isn't she?

I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. I watched the sun rise every morning, and every night I watched the moon follow. In between the phases of the day, I stared at the glowing screen of my phone. When it died, I plugged it in and stared at it longer. I don’t know what I was doing, but time flew as I kept waiting for her to call, or the window to slide cautiously open.

I didn’t just ignore her, you know? I tried calling every night. The phone didn’t even dial through sometimes. Whenever it did ring, she ignored it. I was worried. I was so fucking worried, but the fact of the matter is that she would contact me when she needed me.

I didn’t eat. Dad never bothered to check on me. He was too busy entertaining some “guest” he paid for or getting his “pick-me-ups”.

I didn’t care.

The only thing flooding my mind was how emotionless she looked when she finally left. She didn’t say a word. Hell, she ignored me no matter what questions I asked. I got up and chased her out of the house and half a block. The only reason I stopped is because she bent down and threw a rock at me. Well, near me. She hit a fence beside me, but I got the idea. I turned back and crawled immediately into bed.

I hadn’t moved for the whole week.

****  
  


Not until she called.

“Hello?” Her voice sounded tired. Scratchy, even. I knew where she was staying immediately. I could hear the excited girl’s voice echo across several rooms while a deeper, bassy voice told her to calm down.

“Tez, is that you?” I remember my voice cracked. I was worried, obviously.

“They wanted me back in.”

“I know.”

It stayed silent. She occasionally shifted.

A minute passed.

Five minutes passed.

Twenty minutes passed.

An hour passed.

I heard heavy breathing on the end. I whispered her name and she didn’t answer, but did shift again. I whispered her name a little harsher, and she mumbled out a “Huh?” and then snored lightly.

I still didn’t sleep. I sat there, listening; I reminded myself that she was still alive.

She was still alive and she was still sleeping.

What the fuck was I doing.


End file.
